My Father's Eyes
by feathered moon wings
Summary: They are terrible and cruel; warm and loving. I see my father trough his ever-changing eyes, and they tell me his truths if I read them correctly. But sometimes I fear i will never get to know everything there is to know about them. They are like the grey sky, like the universe itself or the forest as it rains. They speak to me if I listen. (Drabbles. Cover by me. Beta: Mondhase.)
1. They are

Even after all the wonders I have seen in my life, as long as I can remember, the eyes of my father have always mesmerized me. They are like the grey sky before it rains, like the ocean on the morrow, like a blue sky full of stars. To me they are cruel, mysterious, unmerciful, dangerous… and loving; loving and caring, sometimes lost to the world around him. In his eyes I see the deep vastness of the universe… it is dark and terrifying and as it is dangerous, it is also beautiful. I fear I may never know the whole of what lies in my fathers' eyes. But always, I will love him so.

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**Abril: Well this is just the introduction of the drabbles I plan on making, 100 to 500 words, of a study of the faces of Thranduil through Legolas' eyes ABOUT his father's eyes.**

**Any ideas are welcome, if your idea is fitting, it stays!**

**Also thanks to the lovely Mondhase, she has been really kind to me and has been a lot of help in the correction of this drabbles. **


	2. Electric blue

**Title: Electric blue.**

**Words: 255**

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He sits in his high antlered throne and looks down at the humans, those who have been accused of murdering a young _elleth_ in cold blood. My body yearns to stab my twin knives in each of their throats and be done with it, but alas, it is not the way it is done. Though they are only accused of this atrocity, everyone in the room can feel the truth in their _fae_.

There is silence. Whatever they say now will either be their salvation or their downfall.

I look at my king and father, he is the picture of nonchalance, nothing gives away his thoughts... Nothing that is, but his eyes. If it were any other person they would be unreadable, but I know them and they are electric blue; if I lean close enough, I can hear the cracking of electricity inside them, raw power screaming to be released. Thranduil is angry, there is no doubt about that, but it is a different anger; he is keeping it in and it is worse than if he had been screaming all around, voice booming inside the halls.

Everything is silent as the court, the soldiers and the criminals wait for the verdict of the king.

I think for a moment that if I were to touch my father right now I would feel the lightning rushing and burning trough my body, like a bolt that has struck down a tree.

Everything is silent and the king opens his mouth to pass on his decision.

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**Sindarin translations:**

Elleth: Elf-woman

Fae: Soul


	3. Like twinkling stars

**Title: Like twinkling stars.**

**Words: 381**

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Those are strange days indeed. Days when I fear I do not know my father's eyes, for they are bluer than ever like a cloudless sky and as radiant as the brightest stars; shining constellations in broad daylight. In his lips plays an easy smile and it is not cruel, nor creeping, nor even slightly mad; it is pleasantly happy and edging to mischievous, as if the child he had been when he was named _vigorous spring _was dying to jump out from under his skin.

I feel like I know not who that elf is, but this are the times when he is himself more than ever… It makes me smile. But I keep my guard up for I know I am not safe from him.

"_Ion-nin_, whatever is the matter?" He asks me softly, his little smile never leaving his lips "You are as tense as if you were expecting an orc raid."

I narrow my eyes, I am not fooled.

"It is nothing, _adar_." I answer, lowering my sight to the reports I had previously been reading. He does the same, his nimble fingers writing away responses for trade arrangements. The light atmosphere spreads around the room as we work silently at the same desk, but I tense my shoulders; I see his smile widening ever so slightly from the corner of my eye.

There is anticipation in the air, I do not know what will happen next.

A sudden weight lands on my head and ruffles and tangles my hair all around. I stand up with a start and before I can take the attacker off my person it jumps and gets away, making me stumble with a slight push and in my disorientated state to fall to the ground.

My father laughs merrily and deeply; the sound like the wind through the leafs or the running river. As I take the curtain of hair off my sight I see a bright orange fox in the arms of my father, cradled lovingly in a gentle embrace. And never have I ever seen so many stars in his eyes, it is beautiful and it fills my heart with love. A laugh bursts from my chest as I join my father in his merriment, his eyes like twinkling stars.

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**Sindarin translations:**

Adar: Father

Ion-nin: My son


	4. Like the grey sky before it rains

**Title: Like the grey sky before it rains.**

**Words: 247**

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"Legolas." He does not shout yet; it is a warning.

He told me once already that he forbids me to go out on my little self-imposed quest. He is the king and he will never ask twice. My name is enough for me to know that if I walk out of my room and into the forest there will be dire consequences.

I strap my quiver onto my back and look defiantly into his eyes. They are like the gray sky before it rains and I do not know whether it will be a light fall of water or a devastating downpour that will drown half the wood.

I find that I cannot bring myself to care. I grab my bow and knives and stride to the door.

"_Aran-nin_." I spat disrespectfully without looking back.

As I cross the bridge and hide beneath the leaves, the sky cracks with thunder and it starts to rain. It is curious that this would happen at his precise moment, but it is not at the same time. A drop of water falls on my cheek from an opening and it tempts me to turn back and apologize; I remember his gray eyes and like the gray sky before it rains, they hid tears behind the menacing clouds. They are a warning for disaster, but sometimes, they are a warning for the hidden sadness.

I lower my head in shame but I do not turn back, what is done is done.

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**Sindarin Translations:**

Aran-nin: My king


	5. They are kind

**Title: They are kind.**

**Words: 423**

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He walked solemnly over the path the orcs had created with their destructive feet. I could see it in his eyes that he knew as much as I; whatever was at the end would only flood us with sadness and desolation. We waited for the scouts along the rest of the patrol. I, never leaving the side of the king as the faithful guard I was. Just ten years had it been since I had been accepted amongst the ranks and so far I had not disappointed… or so they told me.

In the blink of an eye my fathers' body tensed slightly; no one taking notice but me for I knew the language of his body like I know the makings of a bow.

"My king?" I whisper, for he had not alerted any of the soldiers.

"At ease, Legolas. Do not fear." He whispers back.

I lose the fingers from my dagger and wait for his move.

"Why do you linger in the shadows, child?" He spoke out loud with a deep voice that ran through the bark. Everyone followed his gaze and from behind a tree came a little girl with burning red hair.

The child was dirty and ragged; covered in mud, tears and blood. She inclined her head in presence of the king with respect, her body trembling with exhaustion. There was silence in the wood as my father looked at the child.

"The orcs were in your home." It was not a question.

"Yes." Croaked the child, her eyes filling with tears.

I looked confused at him as he took the crown off of his head, and without looking at me, he placed it in my hands. He kneeled in the grass covered ground, his robes flowing all around him.

Eye to eye with the child he extends his hand in an offering gesture. Hesitantly the little girl with red hair takes it, the difference painfully obvious as the hand of my father swallows hers. His eyes open with a sudden kindness and it's as if the wood were greener and lighter; the forest changing as he does.

Forgetting the status of the elf before her, the girl runs into his arms and starts sobbing uncontrollably.

"There, there…" He hushes her tenderly, his face solemn. He wraps his big cloak of red and silver around the little body of the dirty child and raises her into his arms. "Sleep now child, _man le trasta innas al hir-d._ It is a long road home and you are safe now."

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**Sindarin translations:**

Man le trasta innas at hir-d: What troubles you will not find you.

**Abril: There is a little possibility that I will extend this into a bigger one shot, but I don't know…**

**I remind you that if you have any requests/ideas, please speak up. You never know if they might end up un the drabbles :)**


	6. They give away

**Title: They give away.**

**Words: 416**

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And then there are the extremely special occasions when my father's eyes give away.

I am sure that at least two of the ten elves in the council have noticed the little slip of the king. I hide a grin behind my hand at the unexpected happening but it wouldn't have mattered anyway; the king's attention is far from my face and even further away from the matters at hand.

As Rimnendë talks about how good this year's harvest has been, my fathers' eyes gaze at another thing entirely.

Raspberries.

Maita pays close attention to what is being said, her eyes never leaving Rimnendë while her hands hold a bowl of beautifully looking raspberries. She eats them quietly one by one, but there are no signs that she will soon let go of the berries in her possession.

"What do you think, your majesty?" And suddenly, my father's trance is broken and he looks slightly startled at the question. There is a brief silence, but it is enough for the rest of the council to let them know the king has not been paying attention for a long time now.

The meeting is over and as I walk back to my room I think of the slip of the king with a playful smile on my lips. He has a weakness for raspberries as he does for shiny things; they call to him like the flowers to the bees.

Later that night I walk to the study of my father and knock politely.

"Enter." Comes the deep voice of the king and I oblige, masking my happiness behind a stony face.

"Legolas." He says with the tiniest tone of surprise but he, too, hides it behind his cold persona after looking at my stiffness. "What seems to be the matter?" He asks nonchalantly. There is a lot of work on his desk and it looks as if he hasn't left the room all day long.

I bring my hands forth from behind my back and place a bowl of deep red and purple raspberries in front of him.

His surprise now is unashamedly obvious as he looks at my offering. He reaches greedily for the fruit and holds the plate close to his chest; he munches merrily at his little treasure and there is the happiness of a child in his eyes, the pure happiness of simple things of life. I smile kindly at him and I think that sometimes… sometimes my fathers' eyes give away.

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**Sindarin Translations:**

Rim: Cold pool or lake (in mountains)

Nende: Pool (this one is Quenya)

Maita: Hungry


	7. The deep vastness of the universe

**Title: The deep vastness of the universe.**

**Words: 404**

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Up on the old oak tree I see the arms of my king lowering to me, patiently awaiting for my hands to take them. In the dead of the night his eyes are ever dark like the shadows that creep in the forest. I lift my arms as far as I dare, the wound in my back painfully fresh and the stitches pulling at my skin. He takes my arms gently and with a swift pull he lifts me up as if I weighted nothing but air; his strength as true as any of the elves.

We climb up to where the branches join to the trunk, at the center it is concave and perfect for us to rest in. My father lies down and before I can settle in a comfortable position beside him, he takes me by the shoulders and gently pulls me to his chest.

"Come here, my leaf." I let him cuddle me while I hide a little smile and adjust my head to his chest; I can hear the beat of his heart, strong like a war drum, it calms me like a lullaby.

Settling down comfortably I feel the tension leave my body if only just a little; the wound was surely going to be an inconvenience for the next weeks if I was unlucky. I let go of all my worrying thoughts and concentrate only on what we are here to do. Look at the stars.

Across the sheet of leaves is the night sky, thousands of lights shining in the moonless sky. Turning my head just slightly I look into my father's eyes and they are dark; dark and deep like the void of the vast universe. In that darkness I see the stars of Eleberth reflected in them and they are, perhaps, not so desolated anymore. Where his eyes should have been a warning of the danger that lay in them as dark as they are; I am only comforted and not frightened in the least. His arms wrap around me and I can feel the darkness of the universe like a blanket being placed upon me; and where I should feel threatened in the darkness of the vast universe that are his eyes, I feel only love and warmth in my father's arms.

And he is eternal and ever expanding, his chin tucked over my head, he is like the dark and endless universe.

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**Abril: I'd say it was a good idea but it was terribly narrated… I fucked it up at the last part I really wanted something more -.-**


	8. Like the forest itself

**Title: Like the forest itself. **

**Words: 345**

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The raindrops fall through the canopy of leaves and onto his face, but he does not care. His face points upwards as he seemingly enjoys the feeling of the water droplets on his smooth skin; his eyes are closed and he breaths evenly and deeply.

Though we had not been out in the forest for a terribly long time, both our cloths are soaked to the last tread and I think once again how uncaring of the matter he seems to be. The only thing on the mind of the king the constant plitter-patter of the rain as it hits the leaves and the ground.

Leaning against an old tree, I breathe in the scent of the wet earth.

"_It is the most delightful thing you will ever smell, my leaf." _I remember my father telling me when I was nothing more than a child.

"_It is called petrichor, Legolas. I don't believe that there is anything that will ever compare to it." _He had said with a smile as he had embraced me strongly, high-pitched laughter escaping from my mouth.

My father loves the smell with passion, and in turn, he has taught me to love it as well.

I stare out into the woods, the air misty but bright, and turn back to look at my father.

He is looking at me, his eyes the living forest itself; full of life and every shade of green I could possibly imagine. In them I find a completely strange and new world and it makes me smile.

"I think we should head back, my lord." I suggest. The hair of my father is plasted to his face and he looks wild and feral for a moment, like the woodsman stories were the Elvenking lures children from their beds and keeps them in his enchanted forest forever. I mentally chuckle at the thought.

"Yes… perhaps we should." He says, voice deep and rich as he closes his eyes once again and faces the weeping sky with his nose up and a tiny smile on his lips.

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**Abril: I'm going to take the time to thank all of you who have been reviewing; it really means the world to me.**

**Friendly reminder that any ideas you have may make it to the drabbles, becouse I'm slowly bust surely losing inspiration so any help is welcome :D Thanks again, to my lovely beta Mondhase 3**


	9. And that one time I hadn't cared

**Title: And that one time I hadn't care.**

**Words: 365**

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His hand lifted in a swift movement, but I did not move, it fell just as fast so that it seemed to disappear for the fraction of a second. As his hand made contact with my cheek my head was thrown backwards; not as hard as to get me falling to the ground, but definitely not as gently so that it wouldn't hurt. My father knew he was strong, stronger than he seemed and I knew that if he so wished he could have knocked me unconscious with that single slap. In other words, he had measured his hit.

For a slim second I felt no pain, but that second was over as the feeling of my flesh burning spread all around my face, vibrations like needles running through my skin. My cheek felt wet and for a moment I thought my stinging eyes had betrayed me, but it was thick and I realized it were not tears that ran down my face, but rather blood, my blood. Through my blurry sight I squinted, looking down at the hand of the king, it was stained red and the thought hit me that his rings had broken my skin.

I took a deep shaky breath and lifted my face to look into his eyes. I could not see the color of his eyes nor the details of his face for that matter, mine were filled with tears that held the very real possibility of falling out. I tried to look as defiantly as I possibly could, but I knew not if I had made my intentions clear.

His hand lifted slightly as if to reach to me, but before he could so much as touch me, I took a long step back. His hand fell to his side and I heard him take a similar trembling breath as the one I had taken.

A second later he fled the room.

My father's eyes had always told me what was to know about him. That day I hadn't been able to see them. I had not known what they had felt and I did not know what they had been.

But that one time I hadn't care.


	10. Scared like a parentless child

**Title: Scared like a parentless child.**

**Words: 524 (Ups! I got out of the line for 24 words, sorry, couldn't help it.)**

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I walked silently to my room, it was the dead of the night and every elf lay asleep in the halls of the Elvenking. My patrol had just returned from an arduous week-long journey and I was nothing less than exhausted, ready to fall head first into my bed.

As I passed by the door that led to the luxurious room of my father, I hesitated. From inside I heard the soft moaning of his voice.

"_Adar_?" I knocked the wood lightly but there was no answer. Tentatively I opened the door and my eyes saddened at the sight that greeted me.

My father trashed in between sheets, his trembling words blurring together as they crawled out of his throat. I sat beside him and brushed the locks on his face away.

"Wake up, _adar_…" I whispered "It is just a dream."

"**Aaaah!**" He bolted up suddenly and pushed me away with a force worthy of his reputation. My head hit the ground and I felt the world spin and blur all around me.

As disorientated as I felt, I forced my body to work and my head to clear. As I stood up, I wavered in the spot, but the concern for my father was stronger than my nausea.

He had run to the balcony and though he was no longer asleep, his mind was still trapped in whatever terrible scenario his memories had conjured and twisted for him.

"_Adar_." I tried to calm him, showing my unarmed hands in the air, but still he backed away in fear.

As I came closer, he stumbled backwards and fell, his arm stretched in front of him to protect what little he could of his body. In the silver light of the moon his eyes shone and they were large and fearful; trembling and scared like a parentless child, a child, who was lost in the woods and could not find his way back. A child, who was alone.

"P-please, no." He begged so that I almost wanted to cry out in despair.

Falling to my knees, I embraced him and his fretting grew as he desperately tried to push me away.

"Please, don't hurt me." His voice broke as he came to the realization that he was not strong enough to take me off him.

"Father, I am not going to hurt you." I said firmly and with a commanding voice, which I had learned ironically, from him. "I am your son and you are safe. You are in the halls of Greenwood and _**you are safe**_."

There was a moment of silence and just the rushing of the wind through the trees. I held my breath as I waited for my father to come back to me.

"Legolas?" He asked, looking into my eyes; he was still scared, but back into the real world.

"Yes." I hugged him tighter and placed his head on my shoulder. He sagged into my arms though he did not hug me back and did not utter another word. I let him lie in my arms as long as he needed and wished.

The night was silent again.

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**Sindarin translations:**

Adar: Father


	11. Always focused

**Title: Always focused.**

**Words: 562**

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It was common knowledge that the Elvenking wanted as much merriment as he could get for his people. He liked to say 'I want them to be happy in this dark times. Feasts and little things is what I can give them.' His people in turn were grateful to him, lifting their spirits was the best their king could do for them.

It was also common knowledge that the Elvenking enjoyed, perhaps a little bit too much, fine wines.

"Come on, _Aran-nin_." I say to my drunk father. By now almost everyone has left the feasting hall, but he had kept drinking, sitting in his tall chair at the end of the long table. "It would seem you've had quite enough wine for tonight."

"My dearest, Legolas. 'Too much', is never enough wine." He says with a happy smile, but does not fight me when I make him stand.

As I take him to his room, I struggle to manage his large frame. He seems amused by the fact for the more I stumble under his body the more he lets it fall on me. He sings a quiet tune as we tumble to his quarters, my father looking at the ceilings with fascination.

Finally in his room, I place him gently on his bed and start stripping him of his fine robes. He sways back and forth with a silly smile on his lips. I stop his movements griping his shoulders firmly and unlace the front of the thigh tunic.

"Are you my new maid?" He asks, swaying again just so my fingers would slip and make my task harder.

"No, I'm your son." I answer with a sigh, knowing he was about to play with me as a cat plays with a string.

"Are you my new maid?" He asks again, the smile never leaving his face.

"No." I slip his sleeves off his arms.

"Well, you're pretty and you're taking my clothes off, so you must be." I take off his trousers and go to the wardrobe for a nightgown.

"Arms up." I order him in our well-practiced routine, slipping the soft cloth over his head.

Crown, boots, rings off his fingers and leaves off his hair, I tuck him in.

"Legolas?" He asks sleepily.

"Hmm?" I hum in question, waiting for him to ask again if I was the maid.

"Stay with me." He begs, taking my wrist in his hand.

"No, my king." I sigh, trying to take his hand off, but he just tights his hold; half- conscious and fully drunk and he is still stronger than me; I cannot free my wrist for him.

"Please, _ion_. I do not want to sleep alone." I look into his focused eyes, always alert even when his mind is not, and they seem sad to me.

"_Adar_…"

"Stay." He orders now as he forcefully pulls me to the matters. I fall ungracefully into the bed and he hugs me until I stop struggling. With another sigh and a bit of resignation I let myself relax and get as comfortable as I can in the hold of my father.

His cheek is pressed to my back and he hums happily for he has me right where he wants me.

Kicking my boots of I drift off into sleep a few minutes later, conformably cocooned in the arms of my father.

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**Sindarin translations:**

Aran-nin: My king

Ion: Son

Adar: Father

**Abril: I'm not even sure if I like how I wrote this, to tried to care -.- Thanks you all the lovely people how leave reviews, you really do lift my spirits :) **

**Nighty, night.**


	12. Soft blue

**Title: Soft blue.**

**Words: 518 (I went over the limit ****again****.)**

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For a moment it is as if I am not even there, my presence is lost to him, but I do not blame him. All of my father's senses and thoughts are solely on the form of the wounded stag that struggles to breathe in front of him. The poor thing looks mangled and wrecked, it is clear that he nearly did not escaped his encounter with the spiders. My hearts constricts a little and I am sure my face betrays my feelings as well.

The stag is in poor conditions: one of his antlers is completely broken, probably lost in the depths of the forest; his body is full of lacerations, scratches and cuts that bleed steadily; even patches of his fur are missing. What is worse of all I believe is the broken leg; the white bones are clear to whomever looks upon the animal, they stick out and the leg is placed in an unnatural angle.

My king, for all his royal grace, is sitting on the dirt of the forest floor beside the suffering animal; his nimble hands going all over the body without touching it, like the presence of a ghost. From his mouth fall sweet Sindar words, Silvan sometimes, of comfort that drape all over the place like a coat of honey and I know the beast is soothed for so am I.

The eyes of the stag look at him with the appropriate fear of a wounded animal that for a moment I had thought that he was going to bite him; but my father has a way with words and beasts and not a moment later, the animal had closed his eyes in comfort of the presence of the king. It breathes raggedly and I've no doubt that some of his ribs are also broken.

My father looks at it with soft eyes, the intense blue of his sight somehow softened to a pastel shade. He caresses the nose of the stag with loving movements and he whispers to his ear.

"_Han, melui lavan_."

My heart constricts again at the sight; for all the care the king has with the animal, it is suffering greatly and his wounds are too grave. My father will try to save the animal but it is too late and he will suffer the consequences of feeling too deeply. The stag will not last the night.

…

It is a cool morning and my father has brought his papers outside to work. I am a silent companion, but a little smile won't leave my lips. It has been many weeks since we found the stag destined to die. The love and conviction of my father never ceases to amaze me.

Sitting beside the king is a grown stag with only one antler. It nozzles the arm of the king, as he works, but he pays the animal no heed. I can see from the corner of my eye, he is just pretending, for as he writes and works his eyes are soft blue and the shadow of a smile hides in his lips.

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**Sindarin translations:**

Han: There

Melui: Sweet

Lavan: Word used only for four legged beasts, never for reptiles or birds.

**Abril: This came out by the request of ****MO-5431, thanks for the help sweet heart :) Please people, do not feel insulted if I don't take your ideas, it only means nothing could come up in my head.**

**By the way, check out my new Tolkien one-shot about Thranduil and Oropher, yet another relation between father and son, oh the joy.**


	13. Cruel

**Title: Cruel.**

**Words: 607**

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"You are cruel, Elvenking." Said the Lothlorien soldier with disgust and disdain in his eyes. He was being held by two of my Silvan comrades down on his knees, head held back by the hair.

It was no secret what other Elven realms thought of us, that we were savages, wild animals; but I knew the moment those words had left him, that he had said the worst thing he could've said in the precence of the king. I felt a wave of concern for him pass through my body. I knew my father well enough to know what he would do next.

The cool face of the king suddenly snapped and his terrible rage spilled out. He took a step forward to the silver haired elf and leaned a little.

"Cruel?" he asked in a breath "You think me cruel, elfling?" He walked back a long way in two swift steps "Oh, I can be cruel. In fact… I do not think you will find anyone crueler in this realm than me."

The elf of the golden woods started looking at the corners of the room, struggling hard to get out of the hold of his soldiers.

"Let him go." Said the king with an airy tone and they obliged.

The intruder turned around time and time again, he looked nervous and his face was slowly falling into a fearful expression.

"Get away from me." He said, as he lashed out at whatever he was seeing "Leave me be!" He screamed at his invisible foes, the cold eyes of my father never leaving him as they grew dark and darker and… cruel. My breath left me, as I realized he looked cruel, but not only did he look it, but he also was. The Elvenking of Mirkwood was cruel, and there was no denying it.

The blond elf started to scream in fright and desperation as he lost his battle with the illusion my father was waving just for him. Tears feel from his eyes as he realized he could not win.

"Please, stop!" He sobbed, falling to the ground as his body shook with invisible hits. The elf murmured pleas to the stars, as he was unmade by the one I loved.

I turned my head the other side, when I could no longer witness the state of the wrecked elf. And at long last… it stopped.

"What…?" He asked in confusion as he looked around to find a perfectly peaceful throne room in the halls of the Elvenking. He tried to stand up and for a moment his arms failed him, his body trembling with fear and exhaustion.

"Whatever is the matter, elfling?" The king asked sweetly, but with an emotionless face "There is nothing to be scared here, so why do you weep?"

There was a moment of silence as the Lothlorien elf looked at the king with unbelieving, horrified eyes.

"Take him away." Said my father, losing interest in the matter as he climbed up to his throne "Do tell sweet Galadriel, that I do not wish to hear any more of this matter again. Any other of you fools coming to my halls with an excuse like that again and I will send back a drooling mess." He sat and crossed his legs "Send her my regards also and tell her, I expect to see her the next winter festival."

As they took him away, I gazed to the cold unforgiving eyes of my father. They were cruel like a raging hurricane and sometimes tainted by the ever-growing darkness. I left the throne room with my comrades in tow; the day was not yet done.

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**Abril: Thank you all sweet souls who have reviewed this story, it makes my day. :D**

**I was wondering… do you people realize that the first chapters title is meant to be a starter for the rest? It is "They are…" and then in the title of some other chapter. Did anyone notice? "They are soft blue", "They are like the grey sky before it rains" "They are always focused". I think there is just one or two that doesn't fit but yeah. Again, did anyone notice or was I thinking about the titles for nothing?**


	14. Bent but never broken

**Title: Bent but never broken**

**Words: 701**

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"_Seas_, Legolas!" My father's hand grabbed my shoulder and turned me roughly "Please." He begged me, his eyes glassy with emotion; a grey storm brewing in its depts. "Do you not understand, _ion_? Can you not see?" He asked, his voice edging to desperate as his big hands held my shoulders. I could feel he was trying to be gentle but he could not help but to grasp them hard.

"No, father, I do not understand." I said, looking at him with hard eyes but lighting up a little as I looked into his own. There was something there that I couldn't quite decipher, it was a new layer to the king I did not think I had ever seen; raw, for it surely had been buried deep down his _fea_.

"Look, Legolas. Look at me, son." He pleaded.

I looked up at him, but I did not know what he wanted me to see; he was desperate and angry and shaken and… something else.

"What am I supposed to look for, _adar_? I know not."

"Me, ion, I want you to see me. Can you truly not? Can you not see how broken I am?" He asked with a trembling voice. "I do not want you to be like me, to be… to be tainted by evil and time; to be cold to the world and the rest; to be so bent you _snap_!" He shook me by the shoulders, his eyes watering a little. "Forgive me my son, I know you suffer at my hand, I know you suffer at my restrain and my tight hold of you, but I can not see you turn into… into _this!_It is a sad end, the one I have and I would not have you be like me." He said the last part a little lightly, his fires quieting down. His thumbs rubbed soft circles over my shoulders as his eyes were cast down. "You, my only light, you are so bright and I would not have you be snuffed out like me. Forgive me please, Legolas. _Seas_, forgive me."

My shock was large and deep, the honesty in the words of my father reaching to my very core. Was this the way he truly saw himself? Did he feel himself dimmer than the rest of us?

Looking into his eyes, I saw what I had looked for, but had not found a name to. It was the age-old grief in my father; the battles, the losses, the taint of the wood that felt just like his own. But it was not brokenness I found, as my father believed he was; I saw him, as he had asked, but he was not broken, just unbelievably bent. But no, never broken.

"_Adar_, you do not see yourself as I see you." I finally said, taking his hands in mine and pressing them to my chest. "Yes; you are darkened by time and blood, and _yes_; you are rough around the edges and sharp and deadly and cold…" He took a deep breath as he tried to control the light shake in his body. "But you are brighter than anyone I've ever laid eyes upon, you are my brightest light and I am sorry to be this heartless at times with you."

His eyes were big and the blue in them deep, a lone tear fell from his right. I ran my thumb over it and smiled up at him.

"I know you are afraid of what the world may do to me, but we all must face this darkness in our lives, sooner or later." He squeezed my hands gently, containing the tears he had left. Letting go, I placed my arms around him and pressed him to me "If it is any consolation, father… know that when the time comes I will come straight into your arms so we can cry against each other all night long until Anor shadows the stars." Though I had said it with utmost seriousness, a little wet laugh left his lips, his head nodding against mine.

My father could bend to the end of the world, but he could never in all the years of Arda, be broken.

* * *

**Sindarin translations:**

Seas: Please

Ion: Son

Fea: Soul

Adar: Father

**Other concepts:**

Anor: The sun

Arda: The earth

**Abril: Say with me "Fuck the word count!" Woho! Lets go crazy people :D**

**Remember ideas are always appreciated. And PLEASE forgive my writing coma, I don't know what happened to me :/**


	15. They are memory

**Title: They are memory**

**Words: 603**

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My earliest memories are not quite memories. They are undefined and incomplete. Like a painting just started with only shapes; like a half cooked meal; like a note out of tune.

My earliest memories are not quite that. They are sound and feeling, they are smell and touch; but mostly, I think they are light.

I remember little things that are without context or explanation.

I remember a clear glass of red wine sitting at the corner of a desk; an iris of color as the light passed through the drink, my tiny hand reaching up.

I remember the feeling of fur under my fingers, soft and velvety and the touch of a cold nose on my cheek.

I remember a large corridor, not dark like most of the corridors of my father's halls are, but alight all the way. I was running, but I do not recall reaching the end.

There is in my mind the smell of winter breeze and the image of an open window, the fabric of an airy dress as it waves in the air, a pair of hands reaching down and her face just out of my sights reach. My mother, I think…

I remember being indoors but having the scent of the forest invading my nostrils, I was resting on my father's chest and going up and down slowly. It felt like being out overland with the trees, but it is just the way my father has always made me feel. Perhaps it is just my mind compensating for half shaped memories… I hope these fears of mine are untrue, I very much love this moment of my memory, I like to think of it when I am alone or sad… it comforts me.

I remember a pair of joined hands, one big and strong and the other long and slender. The sound of two voices, one low and the other high. Little me sitting comfortably in between two bodies, drifting into sleep.

I remember two big eyes and a fair face, my little hands gracing over the features of my father. He did not move as I pulled at his hair and touched his lips and the points of his ears. And I could not look away from his eyes, there has always been something there that makes me feel warm although they are icy cold, almost grey. There was a smile, pulling at the end of his lips; slight, subtle.

I remember a kiss on my forehead and a scent that is not my father's as I leaned on a chest that is not his. My mother again, or at least I think. I am always afraid I am making things up.

All this I remember with an uncanny amount of light. Light in the fabric of the dress, light in the study of my father, light blinding away the woman's face, light in the eyes of my father and they are memory and the long times he has lived.

Light, light, light.

"Legolas?"

"Yes, father?" I ask, suddenly snapping out of my thoughts.

"Are you well?" He asks with a small smile. "You have been staring at nothing for quite a while."

"Do not worry, _adar_. I was just… remembering."

"Remembering what?" He asks curious as his head tilts a bit.

"Just… things." I smile at him with jest and he rolls his eyes just a little at me.

Light passes through the window and finds his eyes as he looks down and keeps reading the tome in his hands. There is another flash of memory as I look at the evening light.

* * *

**Abril: Am I on fire or what? Hehe, just ignore me, people.**

**This was inspired by a suggestion of TolkienScribe who said 'Legolas watching his father and mother together.' Thanks, sweetheart : D**

**I really liked how I wrote this one ****although**** it could've been a bit better :/ **


	16. Known to others

**Title: Known to others.**

**Words: 487**

* * *

"Sit, Thranduil! Do sit, please. Make yourself at home!" Radagast tells him animatedly with wild gestures from his hands. My father smiles playfully as he lowers his head to pass through the door.

He likes to visit Radagast from time to time and although it is a silent agreement not to let him leave the halls on his own, I see in his eyes he would very much rather go on his own. The visits are long and sometimes short; they consist of the strange little wizard talking on and on of his animals and what he has done since the last time my father came to visit. He keeps quiet and answers with honest interest when he must; he has told me once the rants of the old Istari sooth him in a way.

And so Radagast talks, and my king keeps mostly quiet.

"Oh, king! Look at yourself!" He says with a small frown "You look the youngest of your elves; but your eyes! Your **eyes**, Thranduil!"

My father tilts his head slightly, his legs crossed as he sits in the wooden chair by the open window.

"What about my eyes, Radagast?" He asks softly "What do they tell you?"

"Sad stories." He says with a huff as he places two slices of honey bread in front of the king "I would see you shine brighter, king." He sits in the chair on the other side of the small table.

"Are my smiles not bright enough, Radagast?" He asks with one full of mirth on his lips.

"Your smiles are bright enough!" The wizard replies, still unsatisfied and a little annoyed. "It is those eyes of yours and that _fea_ that I worry about." He pauses and for a moment, he seems not to be quite there. "The forest grows dark…" He looks at my father once again "Do not carry its weight with you, it will drag you down with it… I worry for you." He admits.

He seems like a child to me sometimes, with the way he is, he is kind of… innocent.

"Please, do not worry. All is fine." My father smiles lightly.

And I can see him from the other side of the room; he is honestly happy and speaks truth.

"Oh! All right, all right!" The Istari accepts defeat and his easy nature surfaces again. "Please! Eat your honey bread. I made them especially for you! I know how much you like them, good king."

My father laughs warmly at the other's words.

"That I do, my friend! If I were not king, I would spend all my days sitting here and munching upon these."

Radagast beams at my father and I smile at the pair, it is good to see him so lightened. It seems I'm not the only one who knows my father's eyes; they are also known to others of a nature like his own.

I lean against the wood and my father smiles as he bites on the bred.

* * *

**Sindarin translations:**

Fea: Soul

**Abril: I really love to imagine the friendship between Radagast and Thranduil, in I way I think they are quite similar. **

**But guuuuys I thought you were going to like the last chapter a lot! Just TWO people reviewed and a lot more reviewed in 14 (which I didn't like that much haha, life is weird). But seriously thou, I thought 15 was one of my favorites :) **


	17. They are sightless

**Title: Sightless**

**Words: 490**

* * *

He is tired and weary, it's been a few long and difficult weeks and I know he has not had any time to rest and almost none to eat as well.

Everything is finally silent, at least for a while.

I walk towards him to his hunched form, he seems not to care that he's not sitting upright nor that he is somewhat untidy. There are dark shadows under his eyes and his hair is messy. He looks by all means somber.

I place my hand on his shoulder and he leans his head against my hip. With a heavy sigh, the glamour over his face falls away, his phantom skin pealing away like wallpaper until only his raw flesh is left on the right side of his face and part of his body. He is too tired to keep it up and to tired too care that I see.

He closes the eye he can with a small feeling of shame over his looks and I stroke his hair in comfort; it doesn't really matter to me, but sometimes I have to remind him.

"Would you like to sleep, _adar_?" I ask him gently. "Perhaps eat a little if you can?" He nods slowly.

"Yes… yes I would really like to rest. Just… just for a moment."

I sit on the couch by his side and he rests his head against my chest as I lean back. I look at his sightless eye as wonder how can I forget he is half blind? He hides it so well, it's unnoticeable. I stare at the white and wonder away.

"Legolas, could you cease staring?" He asks halfway to slumber.

I chuckle slightly and continue creasing his long hair.

"Forgive me, father. You know it intrigues me quite a lot. Your eye… it is so white. A bit strange." I add as an afterthought and the small huff of my king rumbles over my chest.

"I suppose so. Quite the ugly little thing…"

"No, it's not." I fight him lightly. "I know you do not like it, and perhaps rightly so... but I do, so shush now. Sleep."

"Oh, my strange boy." He whispers.

His breath levels and I know he is fast asleep.

Without meaning to, I look again at his sightless eye; the light of the fire shines over it and my sudden fascination with it vanishes. Fire took his sight away and here I am, mulling over his misfortune.

I shift a bit and it is no longer the light of the fire but the light of the moon that comes form the window bright against the white. It is once again beautiful and for a moment I forget I was somewhat ashamed of my liking to it. I think my father has a moon of his own and I frown again at my thoughts.

Getting comfortable, I stare into the sealing and sleep next to my father.

* * *

**Sindarin translations:**

**Adar:** Father

**Abril: I know it is a bit weird but… whatever. Morbid thoughts and stuff, my head is a bit of a mess. Thank you guys for reviewing and Mondhaze for the beta work :D**


	18. In pain

**Title: In pain**

**Words: 597**

* * *

The battle is raging around us and I cannot think of anything else. Fight is the only word in my mind and there is no space for anything else, if I think for just a second of something or another I will slip, and I _will_ die. Fight and go forth, it's all I can do.

It is a long time before I can let my warrior's mind calm down and when I do my thoughts are filled with panic.

Where is my father?

The battle is over, but I have not seen him since it started, my thoughts so gone from all natural things to me that of my king I did not think.

"_Adar_?" I ask to the wind, breathless. I turn left and right and back and forth but I _**cannot see**_ him "_Aran-nin_?"

There are wounded all around and not as many deaths as I expected there to be, but it is just a fleeting though, I _**need**_ to find my father.

"Have you seen the king?" I ask everyone I come across, most say no and the ones that don't have not seen him for a long time.

As time passes I become desperate, crouching beside every silver Sindar head I find, even though I know they are not him; I would know if they were him in an instant, my father's faded locks engraved in my mind like a burned brand.

"Legolas?" I hear a wheezing voice and my head snaps up and it is him, it is my father. His eyes are full of panic and I can tell they have been for a long time; he has been looking for me to see if I had survived, just as I for him.

I smile with relief and let go of a heavy breath. As I look at him I can see he is doing the same, he starts striding towards me with a wide and vigorous smile but both our reliefs are short-lived. He stumbles over the bodies and just before he falls I run to embrace him. We hit the ground as one; he seems breathless and confused. He looks around and he sees the blood and the gore and all the eternal lives cut short. From his throat falls out a muffled moan, his hand extended towards his subjects and in between his fingers he grasps the bonze hair of an _ellon_.

"Father…" My heart shatters at the sight of him, his eyes are pained and his grief radiates from his body like a fire that burns me.

"I'm sorry." He whispers quietly, but I don't know whom he says it to.

Suddenly, I take out from under him my hand that holds him steady, and look at it; it is red, dark read like the wine my father loves so much.

"Father?" I ask with renewed horror. His eyes lock with mine and they are in pain, so much pain. I don't know if the pain comes from his wounds or from the fates of his sons and daughters, because they are, he always tells me, they are all his children like I am his.

The blue and the grey of his eyes are muted by the hurt of the after-battle and the colors blend into an ugly mix until there is so much pain in them I can barely keep my gaze. From him rips out a bloodied scream that pierces my head from the inside as it does my soul.

"Help…" I whisper "Somebody help me, please!"

And with another breath the king screams.

* * *

**Abril: I wrote this like, in ten minutes, inspiration struck me like a whip.**

**This drabble comes from the request of "Rose Salvatore 1999", this was made specially for her and it came out before all the other things I had ready because she took the time to PM me :) She said. "**Can you please make the next update of "My father's eyes " story about a time where Thranduil was injured in a battle and Legolas can see the pain in his father's eyes." **Hope you liked it sweet heart :) **

**Remember I am always open to new ideas.**


	19. The orbs of a stag

**Title: The orbs of a stag**

**Words: 558**

* * *

In my journey to the dark lands of Sauron, there is a loneliness in me my heart can't quite quench. From all the people I yearn for, my father's presence I miss the most. I have many a friend and mentor in the woods of my homeland and here with me lies Estel, always the reassuring presence by my side. But none of them can truly fill the space of my father.

Since I was little he has always been a constant, an unmovable force, the sun that I know will rise the next day I wake no matter what. Here, so far from home, I feel the loss of his presence the most, although I've been gone from home many times and for many moons, this is different, farther than I've ever been, final in a way.

As we make camp by the limits of an unnamed forest –Aragon lighting up the fire and Gimli placing the wood he collected close by -I think of my time home, and the terribly real possibility I will never see it or my father again. It is a sad thought and I pray to the Valar that I may yet return once more to my roots, when this is all said and done.

There is a faint noise in the woods and I turn to see what animal crawls near; the steps are too faint to be a threat.

"What are you looking at, laddie?" Asks Gimli as he stands besides the rock I sit on.

I don't answer him, I'm not quite sure yet.

And there, just behind the fat trunk of a tree, hides a great stag. The woods are far, but not so far that my friend would miss it.

"Would you look at that!" He says with amazement "A white stag! Hoho!" His laugh rumbles by my side and I smile with him. "We are in luck, princeling! White stags are good luck and fortune." He tells me "Oh, if only we had time to hunt it, how glorious it would be. Perhaps we can kill it for dinner." He says thoughtful.

I smile secretly and look into the big dark eyes of the creature. It looks into me with intelligence and I can see with perfect detail his left eye is slightly damaged.

Too soon, the beautiful creature vanishes.

"By Mahal!" Gimli is stunned to say the least. "Where has it gone?" He is puzzled and I feel I must answer my unbelieving friend.

"Perhaps he has returned home." I say and it's not really a question.

"But-but… I could've swear it vanished… Oh!" He humps a little annoyed.

"Do not worry my friend, I'm sure he'll be back." I reassure him and his shoulders fall without much hope for that beautiful prize, he realizes there won't be much time to hunt such a splendorous thing anyway.

The rest of the day goes without another unexpected happening, but my heart and soul are content once more.

Months later, when I first see my father again for the first time in what seems like an eternity, his eyes are not icy blue like I'm used to see them, but the big black orbs of a stag. The moment passes and I see him smiling with arms spread wide open. His eyes are dark blue and I'm home again.

* * *

**Abril: Hello my lovely fellas, hope you've enjoyed this. I think it was a request or it was inspired by one. The truth is something horrible happened and I lost my ideas/request list and I don't know from whom came some of the things I wrote! I'm going to have to go through all my messages to make the list again, but if you could re-write any request you've had for me, it would be absolutely lovely. :D This happens to me because papeeeeer :/**

**In other things, I think this is one of the things I liked most of the movie, the idea that the white stag was a representation of him. I've had many ideas developed from this, but they are not completely formed. One especially has gotten my attention, things happen and Thranduil gets stuck as a stag, all good (bad) things you know? I hope I can complete it someday haha.**


	20. Like the sea at dawn

**Title: Like the sea at dawn**

**Words: 670**

* * *

It was a day like any other; not a lot of problems in the forest, so it was definitely better than some.

It was strange to me, when I looked at my father that morning. He looked, by all means, like he would any other day; straight, fair, tall and collected. But he was sad, that much I could tell, but it was not a sadness I could decipher…

It was strange to me, because I did not know what my father felt or thought, this had not happened to me for many a year. Even though my father was a mystery backwards and forwards, I could always point in what sort of direction his mysteries inclined.

"My king." I greeted him with a slight bow and a light smile.

He nodded back and the smallest of smiles greeted me back. But it was tired, without effort, grim.

"Legolas." He said.

This close I could see his shoulders slightly hunched and his face a tone paler than usual. I locked my gaze with his and my mind was invaded with confusion.

The blue in the eyes of my father… I had never before seen a color like that; it was as alien to me as the ways of the dwarves are. I could not recall it from any flower or plant, lake or sky I had ever before witnessed.

"Is everything…" I hesitated to ask, I could not read my father, therefore I could not predict what reaction my words would bring. I took my chances "Is everything alright?" I asked slowly and kindly.

His eyes softened, but the color did not leave, he was still sad as he looked lovingly into me.

"Sometimes… no." He answered thoughtfully, but sure of his words at the same time. "Sometimes I do not think I'm alright… sometimes I really am not." He smiled softly.

With a light pat to my shoulder he walked past me. My eyes trailed him as he walked away and I still could not figure out where that unnatural shade of blue had come from.

It was sharp and fluid, warm in a way, yet cold. Somewhere there I could've sworn I had seen the light of the sun, but it was only for a moment.

Many centuries later, the question abut that day still plagued me; it had no answer and no explanation. But I began to see it in other elves, sometimes in the older ones, but the question still went unanswered.

What was that in my fathers eyes? From where had come that color I had never before seen?

When my time in Arda finally ended and I stood in front of the sea with the old Gimli by my side, the question answered itself. The color I had seen in my father's eyes, such a long time ago, and at times from year to year, was the deep blue of the sea as the sun rose form the horizon, that sharp moment when the light touched the water for the first time in the day and the grief was stronger than ever. I felt it as it gripped my heart and I knew in that moment that my eyes were just like my father's.

It had been the call of the sea that I had witnessed. The song of the sea as it screamed to my father that his time was done and he ought to go home. I wonder to this day how he could have resisted it for such a long time, still was, when I sailed across the water and into the undying lands, still did for he took many, many more years to sail himself.

How did you do it father? Why did you stay?

Now I realize that a little bit of the sea was ever present in your eyes, just at the corner. It called to you and you denied it.

Your eyes were like the sea at dawn, father. An eternal moment of grief, frozen in time.

* * *

**Sindarin concepts:**

Arda: The earth/ the world

**Abril: I wrote this thing like seven times just so at the end I deleted it all and this came waaaay easier than the original idea, way better too I think. The other idea involved a dream and a mind connection of sorts. It wasn't working all that well, perhaps I could use it for something else?**

**Anyway, hope you liked it. I found my list by the way! Yay! (Though I just realized it's incomplete, oh me)**

**Last drabble was inspired by MO-5431, that said:**

"I was wondering if you would ever consider writing one of your chapters with Legolas comparing something he saw in another character (like Elrond or Aragorn) to something he'd seen in his father's eyes at one time, such as during the journey.**"**

**It's not what you asked for but it's what came to my mind :/ it flew from me.**


	21. A mothers eyes

**Title: A mother's eyes**

**Words: 968**

* * *

Today is my begetting day. I was conceived on a late spring day when summer was just a few strides away. It had been raining lightly, or so my father tells me.

"You were such a pink, little thing, Legolas." He says with a smile as we walk through the woods that are closer to the palace. The merry making of our people in my honor will begin soon and we have but little time for each other before it starts.

"Wiggling all around like a little…" He stops his words and smiles sheepishly. He does not have to finish; my mind does it for him in an instant.

"A worm?" I say with a raised eyebrow "Truly, _adar_? A pink little worm? Could you not have thought of something other to say about your newborn son?" I laugh lightly and he does, too; there is still a little embarrassment tainting his cheeks for he knows his thought was not one a father would usually have.

"Forgive me, _ion_. It was the first thing that came to mind at the moment."

For this day, my king has braided my hair in intricate designs, and for a change, he has allowed me to braid some into his own. His light crown of little flowers fits perfectly with them and we are both ready for the night to begin.

His face falls somewhat, but there is still a small smile upon his lips.

"When your mother… when your mother died I was so worried about so many things. But… one in particular kept going around my head." He stops and looks at me "I kept thinking, what would become of you? I could be the father you needed, but you had no longer a mother to raise you right. What would become of you without her gentle self?" He takes a strand of my hair and looks at it idly though his eyes are kind "I was no woman and I did not want nannies to look after you all the time, almost none at all really. Your mother would not have wanted it either, that I know.

"Before that moment I had never thought of how much time your mother spent with you. While I was busy ruling the kingdom, she has been busy with her little handful of a leaf." His eyes turn grey for a moment, but he smiles again.

"So I thought: 'What am I to do? How can I become a true mother?'" I laugh at his words and he gives me a light tap to the head in reprimand.

"Do not laugh at your father, child! I do not jest. I am and have always been a very stubborn creature and I was bent on being both mother and father to you in every way I possibly could. You know me, you know it's true."

"I believe you, father! I do not doubt your stubbornness for a second!" He takes my elbow and pulls me forward to the road so we are walking once again.

"So I said to myself: 'How do I become truly a mother? A woman? What should I do?' I thought and thought and tried to make a list in my head. 'What do mothers do? They perhaps… sing lullabies?' Was the first thing I though." He says with a concentrated look as if he were thinking hard "'Mothers perhaps… comfort you when you are hurt or distressed? They surely give you advice.' I can do those, I thought, it cannot be that hard." We laugh again. This is a story I had never heard before and it is without doubt most wonderful!

"So I tried to sing you lullabies –although that was of little use, I had done it before that plan of mine- and tried to comfort you when you were hurt and offered advice when I thought I could give it. And I carried you to the consul rooms and tucked you in at night when I had the time." He laughs deeply like a faraway drum. "My time as a would-be-mother was a bit of a disaster, I think, I was very bent on being one. It got to such point that Galion asked me once if I intended to grow a pair of breasts, too." He sighs content and I try to hold in my laughter without much success.

"I am… sorry I was not the mother you deserved and definitely not the one you wanted." He says ruefully with a small smile "She would've been very proud of you, my green leaf." He looks into my eyes deeply and holding my head in his hands, he lays a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Merry begetting day, my child." He strokes my cheeks for a moment and lets go.

"_Adar_, I have never needed an _ellon_ and an _elleth_ both to take care of me." I say with sincerity "You are the perfect and only mother I will ever need and I thank you with all my heart for that." He looks at me, a little bit surprised. "When I look at you, I do not only see my father's eyes, but I also see something else." I smile at him lightly. "It's hard to name at times, but when I look at you I can see a mother's eyes too. I need nothing more, _adar_." I reach up a little and wrap my arms around him "Thank you for everything, father." His eyes look at me and they are gentle and kind and understanding and so much more. He leans his head against me and hugs me back.

The sounds of the party begin to reach our ears and we head to the others for a long and merry night of music and wine.

* * *

**Sindarin transilations:**

Adar: Father

Ellon: Elf-man

Elleth: Elf-maid

**Abril: Hi guys, sorry if I went a bit crazy with this one but it needed waaay more words than the rest. It was not quite the point I wanted to reach but, anywho, I liked it. I hope you liked it, too. Have a very nice day :)**

**This was inspired by TolkienScribe (which is also the reason I remembered to post a new chapter) because when I asked for ideas she kept mentioning Thranduil's wife :D**

**Give me ideas guys! You know I need them and love them!**


	22. I was and he still is

**Title: I was and he still is (or: They make no sense)**

**Words: 354**

* * *

I was small and he was tall, I was young and he was old.

He could stride through a room and even if I ran I could not reach him, his long legs covering large patches of ground. He waited for me, though, my father waited for me when he realized I was trying to reach him and failing; he waited and took my hand with a smile as I reached his side.

When I was young I used to look into my father's eyes and be confused by them, they shared so many things, but I was not old enough to understand them, so they just puzzled me day and night. To me as a child, my father was an enigma; hundreds of colors blending in his sight and not one I could place.

Things have changes now, of course they have, it has been so long since I was small. But I remember sometimes how I viewed the world back then; when I was a child I couldn't quite understand grown-ups or what their roll in life was, they just were. They were a constant in my life, but a constant that had no sense whatsoever. The world in the eyes of children is a very different world, I look at them sometimes and wonder how they see me now, and perhaps they see me as I saw the world back then.

Things are different now… but not that much.

I'm tall now, though my father is still taller than me. I'm not so young now, and he's still old, as old as he ever was and even more.

He still strides through rooms and sometimes it's hard to reach him if I don't run; he walks fast, I realize that now, but when he looks back he stops and lets me catch up, he places his hand on my shoulder and smiles. He waits for me every time.

I look at him now, and I understand all of him, but it is as if I were still a child; he's an enigma and how can I understand him and he still be a mystery?

Does it make sense?

* * *

**Abril: Sorry people, I don't really know what's going on here, feel free to come up with your own conclusions :/ I mean, I liked this, but I don't know what it is.**

**And sadly, I'll have to put this little project of mine on hiatus, I'm really out of ideas and I would rather start building up many chapters to come back with a big punch. But guys, not dead, just gonna give it a rest. **

**Remember, ideas help me and will make me come back sooner :D**

**And SERIOUSLY, you people seems to not like my favorite chapters, I really thought the last one was going to be a hit haha.**

**Later bitches! **


	23. Like diamonds

**Title: Like Diamonds**

**Words: 560**

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"Ah, Legolas! Do come in," my father says pleasantly after I knock lightly on the door. He is tinkering with little threads of silver wire and bright blue stone over a worn out wooden table. A ring.

I smile knowingly; it is no secret my father holds a love of precious rocks and in private, he likes to make his own creations from time to time. My king, as with everything else he does, is meticulous as he arranges the wire around the stone, forming intricate patterns around it, but also letting the beauty of the blue shine trough.

"How long have you been here?" I ask him as I lean on the other side of the tall table, watching closely as his nimble fingers twist and turn the silver.

"What time is it?" He answers with a question.

"The sun is about to set," I say, looking up at him and encountering just the top of his head; he pays my presence almost no mind.

"Then I've been here almost all afternoon and some of the morning." He looks up finally with a shy smile. "Turns out there was nothing much to do today… I decided to indulge myself ine this… little hobby of mine."

"Have you finished anything new?" I look around for the box where he keeps his finished works lined and perfectly immaculate.

"Yes, two others." He answers uselessly, I am already by the shiny pieces of jewelry.

I smirk slightly as I imagine my father as a white slender dragon, hording a treasure of diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and silver. I imagine myself as I am though he is my father still in my daydream; I scold him for robbing the gems of the high elves and he snarls at me annoyed.

"And why do you smile like that, child?" my father asks suspiciously when he turns to look at me, I control the features of my face slightly and gaze towards his creations. There is still a smile on my lips.

"I was thinking of something," I say vaguely, savoring still my daydream and being sure to remember to draw it later on my sketchbook (one that I would make sure my father would _never_ find).

He lets it go, though he's still suspicious, he's no fool after all.

"I like this one," I say, coming back to the high table and showing him the little grass snake ring with diamond eyes.

"Yes." He agrees with a pleased smile, "I quite like it, too." I look at his eyes as he turns back to his work and they shine like precious gems as well, reflecting the light of the fire like the diamonds of the snake, thousands of fractals glistering in the gentle light.

"You can keep it, if you like," He says after a moment. I look down at the ring, the snake's orbs twinkling at me, and up at him again.

"Are you sure? You just made it," I point out.

"If you like it, you can keep it," He says with a little smile turning his head up to me.

"Thank you," I tell him gratefully as I place it on my index. A few minutes later I leave, but just before leaving the workplace I turn to my father. "You should eat something, Adar. Don't take too much longer, alright?"

He looks up again and with a smile and an indulgent sigh he answers.

"Of course, Legolas. Worry not."

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**Abril: I ****know**** I'm a terrible person but still my mind is blank. This has been on my documents for a long time so don't get exited, I still have no inspiration, but it **_**has**_** been a long time sooo.**

**Any ideas fellas, you know I'm open to suggestions. **


	24. Loving

**Title: Loving**

**Words: 570**

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"Child." I heard the air-like sound of my father's voice "Come back, child."

Without turning back, I kept running through the greenery as I tried with little success to keep in my high-pitched giggles.

"Legolas." I stopped for a moment, gazing backwards from where I had come, but there were only tall healthy trees and undergrowth filled with small flowers and curious looking leaves. "I can hear you, child." With a broad smile, I ran in the opposite direction of my father's voice; the sky blue tunic I wore rustled against my little legs as they tried to get as far and fast as they could. Back then I believed I could outrun my father and everyone else.

"_Legolas_," sang the king as he prolonged my name, the trees seeming to sighing pleasantly at the sound of his notes.

I ran and ran and ran, the soft grass protecting my feet as I rushed by until I came to a sudden stop. I looked around, but there was no one in sight; the animals were hidden and the calls of my father could no longer be heard. I breathed in and out as I tried to even my rapid breathing. Two birds of a different kind twitted somewhere in the trees and the crickets and beetles fiddling away in the brush; but of my father there was neither sign nor sound.

My breathing finally calmed down and a small tingle of disappointment touched my heart.

"_Ada_?" Little rays of light streamed through the thick canopy of leaves; I looked up at the green umbrella and wondered for a moment how the world would look from up there.

"_Ah!_" I gasped in surprise as two big hands grabbed me at the waist.

"There you are, my little leaf!" my father said with a smile in his voice as he lifted me up in the air and turned me around, sitting me on his hip. "Why do you run from me, _meleth_? What has your _Adar_ done to disserve such treatment, hm?"

I didn't answer him, I couldn't, from the moment his hands had raised me into the air I had not been able to stop the laughter that bubbled from my belly. And my father, my loving father could not keep quite much longer, quickly letting go of his own laughter as well. He hugged me to his chest and I buried my head against his pale-golden hair, taking in the scent of the forest from his silky threads and crushing him as much as I could with my little arms.

"I love you, ion-nin." he said after pulling me back so we could look at each other face to face. His features were earnest and there was a peace in them that filled me wholly.

"I love you too, _Ada_," I told him as if the statement were silly; as if it were something so obvious there was no need to say it. But still my affirmation was one of pure happiness, one that came so easily from me it was almost overwhelming to my senses.

The bright eyes of my father looked at me as a smile grew on his lips; the color in them was full. With a little laugh, he hugged me again. Deep in the forest it was just he and I.

Love then came easy and without much thought. Love then was given as freely as one draws breath to the lungs.

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**Sindarin translations:**

Meleth: My love

**Abril: Now, I have a little contest for you people (if you're in the mood of course). I have puzzles (to put it some way), if you can solve any of them you get a drabble with me not changing a single thing of what you request (because I tend to do that hehe).**

**Puzzle one: There is a part of this drabble that alludes to something of the future relationship between Thranduil and Legolas. Which part is it and what does it allude to?**

**Puzzle two: What is different from this chapter to all the rest? (Excluding of course that Legolas is small).**

**Good luck :)**


	25. Young

**Title: They are young**

**Words: 1124**

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The voices are as loud and melodic as the music. They blend with the content sigh the trees exhale as they cocoon the elves inside the clearing.

The Silvan elves, along with some Sindar and many Avari, dance all around. The _ellith_ with simple but colorful and beautiful dresses as do the _ellyn_ with similar garments of their own. And in this dance under the trees of the kingdom of Thranduil Elvenking, there are no distinctions or race; tonight we are all kin.

The people sing with their heads held high and their voices merge with the melodies of flutes, violins, haps and little drums. Everyone joins in one-way or another and the night is peaceful indeed as the elves gather in celebration.

The trees that surround the clearing shelter us with their branches though unlike in most parts of the forest, a few of _Elbereth's_ stars shine through the canopy of leaves and unto the merriment. At the petition of my father the trees have scooted their roots a little closer to themselves and under the earth so the people may have more room to dance without preoccupation. There is overflowing wine and plates of food on the tables, the grass and even on some of the branches.

It is a good night.

Nothing in particular is being celebrated tonight but the blessing of our long lives and that we may keep them for centuries to come. From my perch on a branch I look at my father in his makeshift throne, a fat oak has crafted it out of its own roots and branches just for tonight's occasion, and I smile at him and bless his heart under my breath.

Sauron's shadow and taint is long and the forest's sickness grows more with each passing day, but my king fights not just to keep the people and lands safe but also to keep their spirits light in face of the luring darkness. He want's them to be happy despite it all and I can see how the people appreciate that and love him even more for his rule and kind nature.

I can hear the rest of our people, spread not to far, in other clearings like this, having a merry time of their own. The air is light and the wine is sweet in my mouth, as I look outward to the dark forest I smile.

I turn my head at the sound of hushed discussion. Two _ellyn_ and an _elleth_ move each other around as they try to reach the throne of my king. The woman and one of the men push the third closer and closer to the wooden throne; they have captured the full attention of my father. He is amused at the sight and his eyes are still joyful from watching his people dance and sing like leaves in the wind. He waits for the trio to speak.

"Oh, king." Says the dark haired elf of the front with a bright smile "The night is alight in song and feast and your people dance and laugh and sing."

"That they do indeed." The king laughs lightly with a smile of his own.

"Will the king not join us in our merry making under the trees?" My fathers dark eyebrow rises, he is already with them, and waits again "Will the Elvenking not dance with his people?"

The music continues as does the people but the attention is also at the sight that has formed by the wooden throne. The king leans back and a smirk paints his lips.

"To join you in dance? What a question, that is for sure. Yes, my people do dance and sing but do not be fooled _ellon gwein_, I do not delight in a partnerless dance." He finishes, shrugging of his grandeus cloak as he stretches his shoulders.

The three elves falter, unsure of what to do now. It seems they did not expect a refusal nether had they planed ahead for another situation. The dark haired of the three lowers his head, ashamed perhaps of bringing forth the memory of the dead queen.

"So?" The king asks with a hint of annoyance "I'm waiting. I already said that I do not enjoy a partnerless dance." His look is stern as he awaits for someone to take his hand as it lays waiting in the air front of him. His eyes sparkle with delight for all to see the jest in his actions.

"My king, if so is your wish, this subject of yours will dance the whole night with you." The _elleth_ says with a smile.

"And when morning comes, if you still are not satisfied, then I too shall dance with his grace." Said the other ellon of the light-brown, wavy locks.

My father laughs a resonating laugh; it seems to make trees around even more radiant than they were.

"I am _not_ against dancing with many at once."

Without further prompting the group comes forth and each hold a hand of the king, the third placing his hand lightly in the small of his back. They guide him like gentle waves back and forth and my father lets them guide him. Soon more elves joined the group as they take hands and danced around, tangling and detangling themselves and letting go and returning with grace.

"Someone take a hold of my son! If I am to dance so is the prince of this wood, drag him down if you must!"

"Betrayal!" I shout at my father as a friend sneaks from behind me and tries to push me of the branch. I land lightly in a crouch, my fingers touching the soft grass, but before I can think someone has already stolen my cup of wine and a pair of elves, as the king has ordered, drag me towards the center of it all.

My father laughs a joyous sound at the sight of his elves guiding me from side to side in a mess of a dance; his demeanor light and young as if he were no older than two hundred years old.

"Are you pleased, _Aran-nin_?" I ask in mocking hurt.

"Very much so, _hên-nin_!" He places his hand on my cheek for a moment and smiles sweetly.

We dance with our people all night long until morning comes and my father is a bright light amongst us. For a moment I wonder how he was before, when he was young and lived in peace without the fear of losing his home or one he held dear ever touching his heart. It is a bittersweet thought but I don't have to think to hard. After all, why wonder about it when I can see it now?

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**Sindarin Translations and Concepts:**

Ellon: Elf-man (Plural: Ellyn)

Elleth: Elf-maiden (Plural: Ellith)

Elbereth: The Vala Varda (As the elves call her)

Gwein: Young

Aran-nin: My king

Hên-nin: My child

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**Abril: I present you a long-ish drabble because I'm terrible and literally haven't updated in a year hehe.**

**This was requested a long time ago by TolkienScribe, she wrote: **

Can you do one of Thranduil as youth? Like "My father's eyes are young"? I have a feeling you would do it wonderfully, :)

Cheers!

**I do hope I did wonderfully hehe, because you people deserve it! I'm really sorry but I just don't have ideas anymore, my goal was to reach 50 chapters but I'm HALF-WAY-THERE. Not giving up, just sayin' the future doesn't look to bright.**

**Hmm, I think this is the longest chapter I've made for this story…**


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